Big Old Fic Update

[helsinkibaby]

multifandom1000 is evil. Go on, check it out, you know you want to. Stargate SG1 fic, spoiler heavy for Resurrection and THAT picture. It's Sam/Daniel, for those of you who can't guess.

When her doorbell rings at nigh on midnight, Sam doesn’t want to answer it, especially since she’s got a pretty good idea who it’s going to be. For once in her life, she doesn’t want to talk to him, but she knows that ignoring him is out of the question.

So she opens the door, is completely unsurprised to find herself looking into Daniel’s blue eyes, which are blinking owlishly at her. “Sam, hi,” he says, but his eyes slide off her and over her shoulder, into the hallway and the house, as if searching for a third person. “I… um… I know it’s late to come over…”

She shakes her head, even though he’s giving her an out. “It’s ok-” she says, but he acts as if he didn’t even hear her.

“And I probably should have called first… I mean… Pete’s not here, is he? I mean, I um… I don’t want to… ah, interrupt you…”

Sam can’t help it; even if she wants to get rid of him, Daniel’s stuttering, stumbling, ill-at-ease demeanour brings out all her protective instincts and she’s stepping aside to both let him in and let him off the hook. “I’m alone Daniel,” she tells him, and his eyes flare wide as his jaw snaps shut.

“Oh. OK then.” A pause in which neither of them move until she inclines her head with a teasing smile. “I guess I should come in then.”

“I guess you should.”

He nods, steps into her hall, and it could be her imagination, but he seems to keep a wide berth from her, as if he’s afraid of what will happen if he comes too close, and she’s not so sure she blames him. He makes his way into her kitchen and she follows him, keeping her eyes on the ground, and knowing that one of them really should bite the bullet.

So she does.

“So, what brings you here Daniel?” she asks once they’re in the kitchen, and he turns to her, crossing his arms.

“I think we need to talk,” he says slowly, enunciating every word, eyes boring lasers into hers, and suddenly she’s the one ill-at-ease.

“About what?” she asks, trying to keep her voice light, able to hear the tremble in it though, and she walks past him to the refrigerator, because beer is good in a situation like this, and it’s his answer that stops her in her tracks.

“Sam, you kissed me.”

She spins around, John Crichton at his snarky best insisting, “I was lips, you were tongue,” the first thought that comes to mind, but knowing that wouldn’t be the best retort, she stays silent, just stares at him. Because after all, he’s right.

She did kiss him.

She doesn’t know why, just knew that it was something that she had to do. She and Agent Barrett had heard the fire alarm, had known where it was coming from, and when they’d arrived there, seen Daniel lying there, unconscious, one man dead in the cage, and Anna gone, they’d known things had gone seriously awry. Agent Barrett had kept his mind more focussed on the task at hand, which was good, because Sam had kneeled down beside Daniel, was trying to ascertain if he was alive or dead, relief bubbling up in her like a wave when she saw his eyes open. She’d been even more relieved when he’d tried to sit up, but when Agent Barrett had run off, he’d slumped back to the ground again, and she’d found herself keeping back a comment about male pride.

It had been made easier when he’d looked up at her with that slightly sheepish expression on his face, when he’d said, “I’m fine,” because suddenly, she wasn’t on Earth with him, she was on P3X-666 and she was looking down at Janet’s body and her friend wasn’t fine and never would be again. She’d had to swallow hard, and she had been suddenly very aware of how close she was to him, how she was supporting his head, her fingers threading through his soft hair, and he was looking up at her with such concern…

So she’d kissed him.

She’d kissed him and he kissed her back, and then shouts and crashes from another room had brought them back to reality. They’d sprang apart and gone about their work, and they’d both tried to pretend that it hadn’t happened.

Until now.

“I know I shouldn’t have…” she begins haltingly, and he tilts his head, frowning.

“Then why…”

“Because…” She bites her tongue because her next words seem so melodramatic, but they’re true, so she says them anyway. “I thought you were dead.”

“Again?”

The sardonic lilt to his voice does nothing to amuse her, the opposite in fact. “That’s not funny,” she says, her voice low, urgent. “I watched you die Daniel; we only just got you back… and after Janet…” Her voice breaks on her friend’s name, and there are tears in her eyes, and, stricken, he walks to her, reaches out one hand to her shoulder. He releases a slight “ooof” of surprise when she slips her arms around his waist, but he recovers quickly enough to wrap his own arms tightly around her, as tightly as she’s holding him.

“It’s ok Sam,” he tells her as she cries. “It’s ok.”

She’s not sure how long it takes before she straightens, wiping her eyes. “Look,” she tells him. “I’m sorry… it was just one of those things… and you’re right, we should just forget all about it…”

His voice stops her. “That’s your suggestion? That we forget all about it?” She’s confused, but then the glint in his eyes reminds her that she’s still in his arms, and she knows what’s he’s going to say next. “Because if so, I suggest we consider mine.”

With that, he kisses her, and she kisses him back, and hours later, she tells him that his was indeed the better suggestion. and is response to the "Someone visits someone else at night" challenge.

Cross-posted to csreports for the Gil's birthday challenge, and multifandom1000 for the someone overhears a conversation challenge, we have the Warrick/Sara, Grissom/Sara thing that is
Today is Grissom’s birthday. Not that it’s a big deal to him, because he doesn’t celebrate birthdays. He got a card and a call this morning from his mother, and another card from Catherine, along with a present, another tie that he’ll wear a few times to humour her before relegating it to the back of his wardrobe with all the others, dragged out for important meetings and court dates.

It’s not as if he has any other dates to wear it on.

He’s on his way home when a noise from the garage catches his attention, and he looks inside, pausing when he sees two shadows arguing, recognises both voices.

“Why won’t you let me tell people?”

The voice is Warrick’s, radiating frustration, as is Sara’s when she replies, “Why do we have to make a big deal out of it all of a sudden? Why can’t things stay as they are?”

“Because I love you.” Warrick’s words nearly make Grissom drop the folders he is holding, and his mouth is dry, and he’s grateful that Sara and Warrick can’t see him where he is. “I love you, and I want everyone to about us.”

“You don’t want everyone to know,” Sara shoots back. “You want Grissom to know.”

He’s curious at the use of his name, all the more so when Warrick retorts, “And is there a reason why you don’t want him to know?”

“I knew it.” Sara throws her hands up in disgust. “You’re jealous of Grissom. Still.”

“You’re damn right I am!” The roar catches both Grissom and Sara off-guard, and Warrick must realise that, because he’s instantly contrite. “You know how he feels about you Sara,” he says gently. “How you felt about him…”

“Felt.” Sara interrupts him, placing hard emphasis on the word, stepping closer to Warrick, laying her hands on his chest. “How I felt about him. But I’m with you. And I love you.”

The words are a knife to Grissom’s heart, and there are no words that can describe his emotions as Sara leans forward, brushing a kiss over Warrick’s lips. “Then why not tell people?” Warrick wants to know, and by this point, Grissom’s in full agreement.

“Because,” Sara’s voice is light, flirty, un-Sara-like. “I like having you all to myself.” Warrick mustn’t look happy at that, because she’s serious when she replies, “Besides, you saw what people were like with me and Hank… I don’t want to go through that again.”

“I’m not Hank.” Warrick’s voice is gentle.

“I know,” Sara sighs. “I’m just scared…”

Grissom’s never heard Sara talk like this, and he’s heard enough, so he turns to leave, but not before he hears Warrick telling Sara, “You don’t have to be… I’m not going anywhere…” and the unmistakable sound of lips meeting lips.

Grissom doesn’t turn though, just keeps on walking, his lips twisted in a bitter smile. It might be his birthday, but it looks like it’s Warrick who got what he wanted.

csi100 Angel title challenge responses. Six of them. So far.


Why We Fight

Warrick’s always prided himself on his ability to get along with anybody, but then he met Sara. He could understand their initial antipathy, anyone could, but he doesn’t know why, after so long working together, they can be friendly one day and at daggers drawn the next.

Then he sits beside her in an interrogation one day, and he listens to Myles Rueben rationalise fighting with his wife.

“Fighting, loving, laughing ... it all comes from the same place, man. It's passion. And we loved each other passionately.”

Warrick looks at Sara, and thinks that maybe he has his answer.



The Ring
The ring is everything that she’s ever dreamed of; three diamonds in a gold setting, and she loves it on sight. She cries when Eddie puts it on her finger, only in part for its beauty. Because Eddie’s not the man of her dreams, but he is her man, standing by her, doing the honourable thing.

She does love him, but still she wonders if it will be enough.

Years later, she has her answer when she walks in on him and Melanie, and she cries again as she throws the ring into Lake Mead, walking away without looking back.



Sleep Tight
For as long as she can remember, Sara has been plagued by nightmares. The ghosts of cases past and present play themselves out in her mind, grislier and bloodier than reality, her fevered imagination adding further obscenities. She woke in a cold sweat at best, screaming at worst, and sleep a distant memory.

The first time Warrick was there when it happened, she thought she’d never see him again.

Instead he just pulled her to him, held her tightly, and when she went back to sleep, his arms staved off the dreams.

They still do, and for that, she’s grateful.


Happy Anniversary
Sara has had a hell of a day. She’s pulled a double shift, spending one sloughing through a sewer, the second examining the evidence she collected there. All she wants is fresh clothes, a scalding shower and her bed.

Then she opens her front door and gasps.

The place is awash in candlelight, a trail of rose petals leading her to the kitchen, where Warrick stands in her favourite white shirt with a rose in his hand and a smile in his eyes.

“Happy anniversary,” he says, taking her in his arms, making her bad day a whole lot better.


Benediction
Nick’s mother has always compared him to a puppy dog; friendly, loyal, eager to please. So he’s not happy being relegated to the CSI dog house, ignored at meetings, sidelined at the lab, even when he knows he deserves it.

Especially then.

His bad mood abates a little when Catherine talks to him, more when she works with him, more again on their dash to the morgue. But it vanishes altogether when Catherine gives him their precious evidence, tells him to run with it.

She’s telling him she trusts him, and her benediction is all that matters to him.


Waiting in the Wings
Warrick knows that he doesn’t stand a chance in hell with Sara. There’s been too much bad blood between them, even if it’s running clear now, too much tension, too many fireworks. They’re probably too alike for things to work between them anyway.

Plus, she’s in love with Grissom.

He knows she’ll never think of him romantically, but she does think of him as a friend, and he tells himself that that’s enough, and he says nothing when she moons over Grissom, and he smiles hewn she dates Hank, tries not to mind waiting in the wings.

But he does.